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But it should be, because I’m not adorable. At all.
He fights back a smile. “If that’s the case, then you must be allergic to yourself.”
I gag. “Oh my God, cheesy overload. And if you don’t knock it off, I may have to kick your ass.”
“Please don’t tease me, stubborn girl,” he quips as he slows down to exit the parking lot.
“You think my ass-kickings are amusing?” I question. “Because I’m betting your balls wouldn’t agree with that.”
He winces, one of his hands drifting toward his crotch. “Yeah … I get your point.”
I smile to myself, completely entertained, until I become aware of the fact that I’m sitting here with him, joking around and laughing like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do.
Before I can overanalyze that—which I was about to—the back door to the SUV flies open and Rhyland dives into the back seat.
Blaise and I both startle, nearly jumping out of our seats. Then Blaise taps the brakes.
“Jesus Christ, Rhy.” Blaise grips the wheel, shaking his head. “You damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“That makes two of us.” I blow out a shaky exhale, trying to get my heart rate to calm the hell down. Then I turn around in the seat to look at Rhyland. “Okay, so do you normally jump in the back of moving cars or is this just some random thing you decided to do today?”
He grins at me as he situates himself on the seat. “Actually, I was trying to chase down a pretty girl.”
I elevate a brow. “I sure as hell hope you’re not talking about me.”
“I actually am.” He scoots forward. “I come bearing a message for you.”
“From who?” Blaise and I ask simultaneously.
“Aw, look at the two of you. So in sync with each other.” When I give him an unimpressed look, he retorts with an innocent smile. “What?”
“Don’t start with that shit,” I warn, aiming a finger at him. “And tell me about this message.”
His gaze flits from Blaise to me. Then he scratches his brow, seeming uneasy. “Austin told me to tell you that he has information for you about that thing you discussed with him earlier today.”
Blaise’s gaze snaps in my direction. “What?”
When I make no effort to explain, Blaise grits his teeth.
“But anyway.” Rhyland clears his throat. “He said, if you’ll meet up with him, he’ll tell you what he found out. He actually wanted me to give him your number, but I refused to, not just because I think it’s a terrible fucking idea for Austin to have your number, but I also don’t have it.” He gives me a joking stern look. “Which I’m trying not to feel too hurt about, but I kind of am.”
“No one has my number except for my sisters.” I pause. “Well, and him.” I nod at Blaise.
Rhyland’s gaze shifts from Blaise to me then a knowing smile touches his lips. “Interesting.”
I give him a dirty look.
For the last couple days, Rhyland has been suggesting that Blaise and I secretly like each other and that our arguing is our way of flirting. While I find his accusations annoying, the more time I spend with Blaise, the more difficult it becomes to defend myself against Rhyland’s accusations.
“What’s really interesting is that you and Austin were having a conversation.” Blaise glances at me, worry filling his eyes. “Is it about what happened yesterday? Is his dad having him keep an eye on you or something?”
I shake my head, facing forward in the seat. “No. Austin approached me today and said he might be able to help me find the bags my dad stole. That there’s some surveillance guy who may have information but is holding onto it because he wants to get something out of it.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “He gave me this big speech about how that’s how things work in his father’s world. And your father’s.”
Blaise works his jaw from side to side. “He’s right about that, but I don’t believe for one second that he has a way of getting information about the bags. Axel treats Austin like shit, which means Axel’s men treat Austin like shit. They aren’t going to give him important information. And I know this because our dad treats us the same way.” He trades a look with Rhyland, who swallows hard.
“Yeah, I guess I kind of understand that,” I mutter, thinking about how my dad treats me and my sisters like crap, and how he took off and left us to deal with this mess.
All it’d take is one phone call to tell us where the bags are, but so far, we haven’t heard a word from him. It makes me wonder if perhaps he has the bags with him.
